In every nation, there exists a local brew or spirit that isn’t readily accessible in stores. This could be for a valid reason—like its potential danger—or simply because it’s unappealing. Yet, for adventurous enthusiasts, the thrill of seeking out these somewhat forbidden beverages can be a delightful way to entertain friends in your personal space after indulging in better-known drinks, especially when someone curiously asks about a mysterious bottle in your collection.

Having traveled quite a bit, I’d like to share some tips that have served me well in acquiring these unique libations. However, it's important to proceed with caution. There are valid reasons why these drinks are not easily found, so having a strong stomach or access to reliable medical care in your destination is advisable. This is merely a word of caution, not an endorsement.

1. Finding the Source

“In the face of danger, you should lead the way.” — Sallah, Raiders of the Lost Ark

Years ago, I had the chance to visit Saudi Arabia, and I found many of my preconceived notions as an American to be inaccurate. While I don't dismiss current events or others' experiences, I found the Saudis to be generally polite, cheerful, and family-oriented, with a love for good food. However, they do struggle with driving. During my time there, I learned about the joys and perils of Siddiqui, a local moonshine. I was introduced to it by some lively Australian ex-pats after a particularly rough rugby match where I was tackled by a Samoan—a rather painful experience.

Siddiqui is made from sugar and cracked corn, and I was fortunate enough to tour a small distillery hidden in a villa of ex-pats. Contrary to what the paperwork suggested, the residents weren’t who they claimed to be. Upon entering, I was politely asked to put out my cigarette. The foyer was modest, adorned with a watercolor of a camel in the desert. One side of the villa was crammed with bags of sugar and corn, while the other housed numerous sealed barrels connected to distillation tanks. My host, humorously nicknamed "Stinky Lout," filled a jug with the clear liquid. “This is Sid!” he proudly proclaimed.

Before tasting, we were led to a small, unmarked bar where a friendly woman, whom I’ll call Sue, lit a sample from the jug on fire. It crackled and burned with an orange hue, which she quickly discarded, stating it was a “bad batch.” The second attempt produced a blue flame, and she encouraged us, “Drink up, lads!”

Finding Siddiqui can be tricky unless you have local connections. Seek out British, Australian, or South African rugby players for guidance. If rugby isn’t your scene, consider joining the local Hash House Harriers—a drinking club that also involves running. Alternatively, you could cross into Bahrain for a legitimate pint at Maguire’s in Al Adilya.

2. Assessing Quality

When evaluating the quality of your hooch, it’s essential to have a broad perspective. Robert Pirsig’s insights in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance come to mind.

“Quality is a perceptual experience found only in the present.” — Paraphrased from Robert Pirsig.

A while back, I spent six weeks in Chiang Mai, Thailand, collaborating with local artists. Initially, my meals consisted of Pad Thai, but soon my friends and I craved variety. We began exploring local beers and spicy street food, often taking our scooters into the countryside to visit temples. Occasionally, we encountered long lines at unassuming bamboo huts, but our guides advised us against inquiring further.

Curiosity got the better of us, and we were invited to a local artist's home for dinner in a banana grove. After enjoying delicious dishes, we were introduced to Mekhong whiskey. Later that night, we stumbled upon one of those bamboo huts, where a woman was selling an unnamed concoction in a jug tied with bamboo leaves. Despite warnings from locals, we purchased a few bottles.

Researching this brew later revealed it was even worse than Lao Khao, a Thai rice liquor known for its potency. What we encountered was akin to a blend of absinthe and soju—an instant intoxication that was shockingly overwhelming. The night became a blur of bad karaoke, spicy food, and a rough awakening in a water trough, with a water buffalo snorting nearby.

Thus, the lesson is clear: be mindful of quality when seeking local spirits. The unnamed brew could be elusive, so you'll need to be a good detective if you want to find it in northern Thailand.

3. Understanding Quantity

During a trip to Accra, Ghana, I had a memorable experience—albeit a 16-hour flight from JFK. The Ghanaians I met were genuinely warm and proud of their culture. While exploring local markets, my team tried to inquire about local brews, but our driver initially ignored us. After some persuasion and a few shots for the bartender at our hotel, we learned about Akpeteshie.

Our driver was hesitant to assist us, explaining that only locals consumed it, and it wasn’t available in stores. A previous factory had burned down, adding to its mystique.

After visiting Kakum National Forest, our driver took us down a dirt road to a small cinderblock hut selling the drink. We opted for the largest size, knowing we might never return. Back at the hotel, we sampled Akpeteshie—distilled palm wine that tasted like soapy water but packed a surprising punch. It was a shocking realization, as a small amount could easily derail your day. We decided to dispose of some of it into nearby plants and kept a smaller bottle for later.

At a subsequent gathering, I offered shots of Akpeteshie, only to witness my friends’ shock and horror. Now, no one dares to inquire about it in my pantry.

Quantity often creates misunderstandings when it comes to international hooch—proceed with caution. Akpeteshie is readily available in local markets, but it’s wise to bring an empty bottle for convenience.

Acquiring hooch abroad can be a thrilling yet risky adventure. Enjoy the journey!